


New Property

by paperbridge



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: It's noncon though, M/M, Strega/Avilio, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperbridge/pseuds/paperbridge
Summary: What a good name for this filthy garbage am i r ight





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [91dayskinkmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/91dayskinkmeme) collection. 



_ It’s dark down here, _ Nero awakes to this thought, one of his more obvious, stupider claims. He’s quick to notice cloth covering his eyes, adding another layer to the dark room. He groans, his head throbbing and his thoughts pulsating in strange waves. He shifts, wanting to touch the bruise on his head and undo the blindfold, but he soon realizes the tight restraints on him. 

 

_ Rope. Figures. _

 

    Nero struggles against the binds, flicking at his wrists and wishing for a knife, but it cuts into his skin the more he writhes and he forfeits, for now. He’s not an idiot, and he’s not about to wound himself more unless he had to.

 

    He recalls being scared of the dark as a child, but now that he sits here without any light, Nero feels more drained than scared. He’s more upset than he is worried, and he thinks it’s probably best that he  _ is _ tied up, at this point.

 

_ It’s dark. Avilio. My head hurts like hell. Where was he? Where is this? That son of a bitch still had to pay. Hurts. Hurts. _

 

    “Awake already, Vanetti?”

 

    Lights illuminate the room, and if he squinted and peered through the thin fabric of the cloth, Nero would see he was in a wine cellar. The pools of light flood Nero and Strega, who raises his brows and stares down at the Vanetti expectantly.

 

    “Suppose I am,” Nero replies, pushes through the headache to smile up at the Galassias. He notes Strega’s sleek cap toe shoes that clack with each step, but he’s unsure of the pale feet behind the shoes. “Is this how you treat our hospitality?”

 

    “Funny,” Strega’s voice is slick like honey, sticking to the ears and filling anyone in his presence with a sense of apprehension. For someone as young as him, his presence towers over all and makes him seem much older. “Is killing my uncle something I should be grateful for?”

 

_ Right. _ Despite all the commotion and the distance between them, Nero recalls Avilio ignoring his father to kill Don Galassias. He winces, a twinge of fear twisting his smile for a second. Nero’s still unsure what to make of the pair of feet just ahead of him. He says nothing. 

 

    “Well I am- just not to you.”

 

_ That _ surprised him.

 

    “If you think Avilio’s going to come rushing in to save me, you’re wrong.” Nero says darkly, just saying his name enough to boil his blood and lose the smile. The reason he was here in the first place was to get Avilio back to pay for what he’s done, not have Avilio come save  _ him _ . Strega watched Nero closely, scoffing a laugh.

 

    “I don’t need him to do that for me.”

 

    Nero loses his anger, confused by that. Before he could ask, Strega undid his blindfold and what he saw made him skin burn and his heart stop.

 

    It wasn’t that Strega had Avilio- he had figured he must have had him, or he wouldn’t have come here- it was what Avilio  _ didn’t _ have on  _ him _ .

 

    Nero could understand Strega stripping Avilio of his weapons and immobilizing him with binds and chains, blindfolding and gagging him was questionable enough since Avilio rarely said anything, but to leave him in just his tattered shirt that was ripped and torned at the hems and collar?

 

    “A familiar sight, I bet.” 

 

    Avilio stood up straight, his arms above his head and his hands bound together and held up by a strong, durable chain. Avilio’s feet lay bare on the cold floor with his ankles tied tightly together. There wasn’t much he could do but present his body and close off his thoughts.

 

    “Avilio?” Avilio shivers at Nero’s voice. Nero watches as he tries to slink away, the chain clinking with the slightest move. A gasp filters out of the gag when Strega grasps his ass, and Nero jerks his head to glare at the Galassias.

 

    “Hey,” Nero struggles to keep the humor to his voice, but he’s shaking too much to grasp anything other than outrage. “And just where are you touching him?”

 

_     How dare he touch Avilio like that? He wasn’t his to touch. _

 

    “That’s going too far, don’t you think?” 

 

    Strega laughs at the question, and he laughs at the way Nero’s attempting to keep himself together. For a man that always seemed so collected and carefree, Nero looked like he could kill him just by touching his property.

 

    But whatever property was Nero’s belongs to him now, and that means Avilio is as good as  _ his _ .

 

    “It’s just my way of gratitude,” Strega purrs, taking hold of Avilio’s chin and forcing his gaze upwards until he could hear a tiny crack. Avilio relaxes for a second, but tenses up at Strega’s wet tongue along his cheek. He licks up sweat and lingers below the blindfold to kiss. 

 

    “Sweet,” Strega comments, his eyes sliding over to Nero’s expression slowly, and he notes that all attempts at being reasonable had left the Vanetti. He smirks, raising a brow at him. “You’re not very good at sharing your toys.” 

 

    Neither was he.

 

    “Let go of him.”

 

    Nero’s words were shut out by Strega, and only encouraged the man. Avilio bucked, choking on the gag as Strega’s pushed a finger in. Long, slender fingers, curling into him and filling his stomach with disgust. He tore his face away from Strega, grunting and silencing himself. Puffs of air tumbled out of his nostril erratically, saliva accumulating at the side of his mouth.  
  
    Avilio never resisted Nero, when they came to this point. He was usually the one instigating it, but the Vanetti knew Avilio wasn’t a man who played hard to get. 

 

    And yet, he still wondered if that was an act.

 

    He stared at Avilio in horror, as Avilio struggled against his binds and dug his nails into the rope.  _ An act? _

 

    “Nero’s fingers are longer than mine,” Strega commented, slow and deep, just like the way his finger moved inside, and just like how he added another inside, and how Avilio’s shuddered keen escaped. 

 

    “Probably thicker, too,” Avilio stamped his foot defiantly, throwing his head down and choked on the gag once again when he tried to protest.  
  
    Nero couldn’t make out the exact words, but desperation clung to Avilio’s tongue and dripped from his saliva. 

 

    “How many of my fingers will it take for it to feel like Vanetti’s fucking you, do you think?”

 

    “You son of a bitch,” Nero’s voice is hoarse, raspy, breathless, and Avilio reacts. A moan trickles out from the gag and Avilio crumbles like sugar and trembles the way Nero’s hand did after a sip of Avilio’s cup of coffee.

 

    Strega is pleased, a devilish smile when a third finger curls inside like a hook and reels in another  _ beautiful _ sound from the man.

 

    "Lucky man," Strega purrs, and it's an ugly sound to Nero, and a dull sound to Avilio. "Some kind of reaction just from hearing you."

 

    He says nothing, and Nero smolders like the cigarettes he would roll on his tongue and he feels the ash sting his throat with each inhale. It's the same kind of smoke he would taste on Avilio's mouth, but sugar would stick to the ends of that taste.

 

    “Must be feeling proud right now.”   


  
    The same mouth that is drowned by cloth and drool.

 

    No, Nero feels no kind of pride off this. He felt pride in Avilio’s quick-thinking, and in the way he walks, and the way he didn’t seem to care for presentation or formalities.   


  
    Strega undoes the knot of Avilio’s gag, pulls away from him finally, pulls each finger out with a _pop!_ and lets Avilio breathe.  


  
     Nero felt pride in getting that rare smile from Avilio, and the even rarer smile that lacked restraint and promised that Nero was the world.  


  
    And Nero took pride in that thought.  


  
    “You still watching this, Vanetti?”

 

    But Nero doesn’t take pride in this.

 

    “ _Are you?_ ” A smack across his cheek, it cracks through the room and splinters Nero’s thoughts. 

 

    Nero glares up at Strega, spits in his face, and gets hit again.

 

    He takes pride in that.   


  
    Avilio says nothing. He breathes, and he swallows, and sets his mouth back into the tight line Nero’s always known. He’s pulling back into himself however way he can, and seeps out of the moment to hang his head.

 

    He’s yanked back at Nero’s garbled protests when Strega gags him with the watered down cloth that Avilio had bit and breathed and whimpered against.

 

    Strega chuckles as Nero wriggles and curses against the gag, thinking he looks like one of those rabid dogs he might see around Lawless’s alleyways.    


  
    Nero watches Strega go back to Avilio, and he barks against soggy cloth and tears his skin against coarse ropes and wants to shout _don’t you dare touch him,_ but he wonders why he still cares.  


  
     It’s quick, and sudden. Like a shot to the heart, a bullet to the brain, and neither Avilio or Nero register it immediately. 

 

    Avilio is pulled back towards Strega, and he grits his teeth and suppresses a pained groan. The sides of his mouth twitches, and Strega imagines tears might be stinging those pretty honey eyes of his. Avilio’s name is garbled out by Nero, horror lighting up his eyes and he ruins whatever composure he has left.   


  
    “Hah… ha-ahh…”   


  
    Strega drinks up that sound, and it goes down smooth and hits a spot inside that he never quite filled up before. Buttons pop open from a push of Strega’s fingers and open up his pale chest for Nero to see. The Vanetti stares long and hard at the wrappings over his shoulder and realizes that Strega has taken good care of that wound.  
  
    With a thrust, Avilio clutches onto the rope, gasping breaths slipping out pained whimpers and even a “no” that sets Nero off all over.  


  
    Avilio must have had the Vanetti under his finger tips, if one note of disapproval was enough for Nero to lose himself. _He could be a demon,_ Strega thinks between pants.   


  
     “Stop it,” Avilio hisses like steam and burns like fire. Strega guides his face towards him and forces him into a kiss. He gulps on his protests brings his tongue along the top of his teeth until Avilio bites and bites till he draws blood.  


  
    Avilio burns Strega’s tongue like coffee, and Strega pulls away with a flash of pain and irritation, and Nero takes pride in it.  


  
    But Strega returns to his dark smile and laughs away the pain. He laughs and grabs a fistful of Avilio’s hair and yanks hard, and A vilio chokes on a gasp when Strega sank his teeth into his neck and lapped up the blood.    


  
    Nero watches Avilio pull back into a shell again, and he thinks absentmindedly if he’s done that before, when they would slip into that mood.   


  
    He shuts his eyes tight, screws them shut when Strega pulls out an “Oh!” from Avilio, the last thing his eyes were set on was the curling of toes as Strega curved his hips to meet that sweet spot again.

  
  
    He remembers making Avilio cry out like that, before. For such a bitter man, he gave Nero the sweetest love under those sheets, or in his car, and it was hard for the Vanetti to register if that was all an over-saturated act.

  
    “N-no…”  


  
    Strega bruises Avilio’s hips, his nails making an imprint on his skin, the same way Nero would.  


  
    Nero’s binds are soaking up blood from his cut up wrists.  


  
    Avilio’s mouth hangs open, his tongue out and wetting his dry lips, and Nero can’t help but remember the way he licked his way into that open mouth weeks before, and the taste lingers on his tongue.  


  
    “..o..”  


  
    The word barely registers off Avilio’s mouth, but the sound and the familiarity of it makes Nero ache. 

  
  
    When desperation and desire filled up Avilio’s mouth and left him breathless and pathetic, Nero always heard that pleading “Nero” and lose himself to it. It affected him greatly.

  
  
    It affects him, now. His eyes are blown wide open, and he stares at Avilio. And Nero sees his name push out of those lips.

  
  
    Strega doesn’t notice.

  
  
    Not until he cums.

  
  
    Nero liked to cum inside, and his strange reason for doing so reconfirmed to Avilio how much of an idiot he truly was. It had become a goal of the Vanetti to fill in the cracks of Avilio in whatever way he could- this was just another practice of that dream. He would have quit if it didn’t work.

 

    “N-Nero,” Avilio’s voice fills the room, and it drips and washes over Nero like a wave. The voice is wispy and gentle, and he always sounds like he’d cry if he had the tears.

  
  
    Strega falters, frowns, glares. Avilio feels those eyes on him and goes defiant.

 

 

 ---

 

    Nero stares at Avilio in the dark, wincing as he finally wears down the rope and undoes it. Avilio can hear the rustling from where he is. He’s exhausted, but can’t really fall asleep. Nero catches him as he falls forward, carefully putting him down to unbound his feet.  
  
    Avilio opens up his eyes to see Nero, his blindfold bunched up in his fist. Avilio absentmindedly rubs his wrists and sighs. 

 

     _Time to escape,_ he guessed.   
  


* * *

 

 

SECRET MESSAGE ::

  
  


  
Gay gay gay gay gay angelo’s gay gay gay gay gay gay nero’s also gay gayg ayg gay gay lololololol  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Inspired to [this fanart](https://twitter.com/0229_1204/status/781667122711629824).  
> Strega fucks an unwilling Angelo in front of a tied up and (possibly) gagged Nero. Doesn't have to be identical to the comic, different is better, but the concept is the same.
> 
> BONUS: Nero's POV  
> (kinda did that)  
> BONUS: Angelo screams Nero's name while Strega fucks him (also did that)


End file.
